My poetry my life, my blood the ink
I stain these unmarked pages with, my past
the well from which I draw my art (don't think,
just breathe the words as though they may not last) ,
my broken skin and shattered eyes don't blink
(blind faith, real truth beyond the lies I've cast) ,
my tattooed body - real back story - drink
one more (maybe it won't be just like last
time) , one line, one more push right to the brink
of night - living like I cannot die - too fast,
too hard, too deep (careful! pulling back the ink) -
truth dies, mind lies that I can ride that blast...
(eyes closing fast) never reached that glory
always dreaming, writing my back story.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem